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Shoe, 5/3/19

Here’s a question that I genuinely don’t know the answer to, and I ask with no particular malice: do you think Shoe strips like this, which consist entirely of two characters in a well-established Shoe locale talking to each other in vaguely joke-like ways, are drawn to order? Or are there like tons of templates on file where an intern at the Brookins-MacNelly Foundation For Laffs can match up the number of word balloons with the joke assigned for the day and just let ‘er rip? This is, again, not meant to be a criticism of the latter strategy — it’s the only logical and efficient way to approach it, after all. But I’m asking because in today’s trip, there seems to be even less of a connection between the joke and the visuals than usual. In panel two in particular, Roz and her customer are narrowing their eyes and leaning towards each other, almost as if they’re about to launch into a physical fight, which would definitely be more interesting than a “death and taxes” gag.

Dick Tracy, 5/3/19

Anyone who’s ever read a single entry on this blog knows that I can very easily achieve a state of “Oh no, I thought too much about this thing that hate and now I accidentally love it,” and this insanely wordy Minit Mystery is now one of those things. I still refuse to attempt to “solve” the mystery or even get a firm grasp of what the hell is happening, but am I going to lie back and enjoy the sensation of letting this tsunami of backstory wash over me. This plot has it all! Authors Pat Culhane and Austin Black! Suburban slashers! Farm gals who are racist against Italians but marry Italians anyway! Can’t wait to sort of understand whatever happens next!

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Shoe, 4/16/19

Me being me, there’s an awful lot I could complain about here: this strip is clearly set at Roz’s counter, whereas Shoe’s failed romantic advances should by rights happen at Treetops’ fern bar, plus I’m not really sure “tank” works as a synonym for “pool,” particularly one that has variable depth. But I’m totally on board for the “bigger picture” here, which is that journalism in the bird-world of Shoe, as in ours, is in economic freefall, and Shoe has decided to jump ship to take on an advocacy role at some billionaire-funded advocacy organization, using his writing skills to promote [thinks for 30 seconds about what a bird think tank might put out position papers on but then deciding it isn’t really worth it] like, lower taxes on gizzard stones or whatever.

Mary Worth, 4/6/19

“We barely even talk to each other! It’s great!”

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Curtis, 4/11/19

Far be it for me to criticize another man’s curmudgeoning, but I think that Greg has the escalating affronts to his sensibilities in the wrong order here. The elder Wilkins is generally depicted as being obsessed with how much Better Things Used To Be, in the Past, despite the fact that he’s a middle-of-the-cohort Gen Xer, at oldest, but anyway, what is a podcast if not the modern-day equivalent of an old-timey radio show? Shouldn’t Greg be pleased that this ancient art is being recognized and turned into movie franchises, just like the old radio serials of old? His reaction seems way, way over the top: as he begs his Creator to take him away from this fallen world in the final panel, he appears to have taken the admonishment in Matthew 18:9 to heart, plucking out his own eyes so that he can’t see the abomination that is a Sir Patrick Stewart-voiced poop emoji. But you can still hear the podcasts, Greg. You can still hear the podcasts.

Shoe, 4/11/19

I can’t decide if this strip is an indication that the Shoe creative team has suddenly remembered that their characters are all birds, or have forgotten so profoundly that they made this joke entirely on accident.

Judge Parker, 4/11/19

Two days later, Marie was murdered by the mafia. Sam and Abbey never noticed that she failed to visit over the holidays, because [rolls dice] Neddy [rolls dice again] was sad because she lacked direction, and that took up all their energy.